


My Own Prison

by perpetuallydreaming



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:02:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetuallydreaming/pseuds/perpetuallydreaming
Summary: Bucky becomes distant during the trials of the crimes he committed as the Winter Soldier.





	My Own Prison

**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda pretty angsty. I had My Own Prison by Creed on repeat while writing this, although I did switch songs to For Blue Skies by Strays Don’t Sleep towards the end, in case anyone wants to listen. Hope y’all enjoy it and let me know what ya think!

You suspected that Bucky would struggle somehow as the trials that would decide to either hold him accountable for his time as the Winter Soldier or exonerate him came, but in a typical Bucky fashion, he remained stoic. You kept a close eye on him, you knew his time in Wakanda healed some of the wounds HYDRA inflicted upon him, but you were worried that his nightmares would come back stronger than ever while having to face evidence of what HYDRA made him do. Nights you usually spent with Bucky you were now spending alone. He came to bed well after you’d fallen asleep waiting for him, and was out of bed before you’d wake. Tonight was another one of those nights. You were reading a book trying to wait up for him, but your eyes were starting to burn with the need to close them and sleep. Before you knew it, the next time you woke it was dawn and the suns rays were just beginning to kiss the New York City skyline. Your hand drifted to Buck’s side of the bed that was still a bit warm. A soft sigh escaped your lips before you decided to get up and face the day. You had hoped that since it was a Saturday you might have been able to wake up with him unlike the past two weekends since the trial had started. Having showered the night before you simply splashed some water on your face and brushed your teeth before throwing on a pair of leggings and one of Bucky’s long-sleeve shirts. You begin to sluggishly walk to the kitchen knowing Bucky has probably already left the house. You begin the process of making coffee before you realize that you are out of coffee grounds. Taking a deep breath, you decide to go to the grocery store since you had put it off to go to the trial this past couple of weeks. Writing Bucky a note that you leave on the counter for him to see, you slip on your shoes and grab your keys and head out.

An hour later you bring the groceries inside and putting them away. You finish making the coffee you had started this morning and you notice that Bucky still isn’t home yet. You curl up on the sofa with your cup of coffee on the coffee table and a book before draping a blanket over your lap. Mentally exhausted, it doesn’t take long before you’re asleep on the couch. Half an hour later, Bucky walks in, seeing your sleeping form with the book you were reading open in your lap. He knew you were worried about him, about how the trials would affect him. He would be the first to admit that you not only had every right to be worried, but that your worries weren’t unfounded. He had been avoiding you lately, and the guilt ate him up inside. However, the guilt of what he had done as the Winter Soldier was obliterating him. He felt as if he didn’t deserve you, and he was waiting for you to realize that, with every day that the trial dragged on, with every name and face that he had affected, he was waiting for you to look at him with disgust in your eyes and leave. He certainly wouldn’t have blamed you. That wasn’t the only reason he was avoiding you though, mainly at night. Every day that the trial went on the prosecutor would mention another name and show another face belonging to someone that no longer existed because of him, because of what HYDRA made him do as Steve would remind him. With that, his nightmares also returned. Even though it was unhealthy, and you would be sure to scold him the second you found out, he figured if he didn’t sleep, or slept as little as possible, he couldn’t have a nightmare. So he would work out for hours at night before he would go to sleep, climbing into bed long after you had passed out waiting for him, and he would wake up before you to workout, effectively tiring himself out enough that when he would sleep it would be deep enough that he wouldn’t be able to dream and wouldn’t wake you from his nightmares. Looking at you now he felt terrible for avoiding you, neglecting you. You showed up every single day of this trial to support him, and never complained that you went to bed and woke up without him. He knew this was taking its toll on you. You slept more often and seemed to only consume coffee with maybe one actual meal a day, Bucky had wanted to be strong for the both of you, but now he realized all he had managed to do was neglect you and isolate himself within his own mental prison. He decided he would shower before he’d make you something to eat for when you woke up. 

You had taken one of the longest naps you had probably ever taken. The sun was low in the winter sky, eclipsed by the buildings. You stretched before smelling something cooking in the kitchen. You nearly panicked before you realized that you hadn’t started cooking anything before you had fallen asleep, and that meant that it must be Bucky cooking. You slowly got up and walked towards Bucky in the kitchen, he was humming something to himself that you didn’t recognize and stirring something in front of him. Wrapping your arms around his middle from behind, you rested your forehead against the center of his back between his shoulder blades. He tensed up for a millisecond before relaxing, but you had noticed the uncharacteristic action. 

“Whatever your cooking smells delicious,” you say with a groggy voice before you clear your throat.

“Is that so? I made your favorite, broccoli cheese soup. The rolls are in the oven should be done in a few minutes.” 

“Mmmm. Sounds good.” A smile is now plastered on your face. Maybe, just maybe, you have your Bucky back. You squeeze your arms around him to show your appreciation. 

“Good. D’you wanna grab some bowls and stuff for us? I think the soup is done and I’m gonna take a look at the rolls.”

You nod your head yes against his back before letting go of him, immediately missing his warmth. He missed your arms wrapped around him just as quickly. Walking over to the cupboard you get out all the things you would need before leaning against the counter and looking at Bucky. You noted how his long-sleeved shirt was more snug on him than it had been before, his sweatpants were hung low on his waist, and his hair was pulled back into a bun against the nap of his neck. It felt like this was the first time you were seeing him in weeks, and in a way you were. The Bucky standing before you now was a much more honest version than the one you saw in court for the last few weeks. He pulled the rolls out of the oven and set them on the stove to cool before making his way over to you, it was now that you got a good look at his face. A straight on view. You could see the dark half-moon circles beneath his eyes. His hands gripped your waist and your hands rested on his chest. He looked into your eyes before glancing down at your lips and looking back into your eyes again. Bucky slowly lowered his lips to yours, nearly groaning at the feeling of your lips on his. His hands made their way from your waist to the back of your thighs. Tapping his hands on the back of them was your cue to jump and wrap them around his waist. He had been able to tell when his hands were at your waist that you had lost weight, but it still shocked him how much lighter you felt to him. He still found you as beautiful as the day he met you, but he felt even more guilt that you hadn’t been properly taking care of yourself. You were stressed out and worried about him. He poured as much love as he could into the kiss. He missed your touch, the way that it would make his heart race. He missed the taste of your chapstick on your lips, peppermint. He missed the scent of your body wash, something floral, but not overpowering, soft like you. He kissed you at that moment as if he were repenting for every single sin he had ever committed. He kissed you until you were both breathless. Your foreheads rested against each other as you gathered your breaths. 

“The, uh, rolls are done.” Bucky is the first to speak, his voice a bit gravely.

You let out a chuckle before capturing his lips in one more kiss, a soft and sweet one. 

“Join me? I’m not going to be able to eat that all by myself. We could watch a movie or something if you want.” You say hopefully, a little scared that he’ll bolt. You know this is usually the time he goes out for his run before heading into the gym a couple floors down in the tower. You can see that part of him wants to decline, but he steels himself for a split second. 

“Yeah, go pick a movie and get it started, I’ll dish out dinner.” He spoke softly. You walked over to the stack of DVD’s and picked out one of the romantic comedies that you both loved before popping it into the DVD player. Bucky sat the plates that your bowls and rolls sat on onto the table before taking a seat on the couch. You sat down beside him before turning and setting your legs across his lap and tossing the blanket over the both of you. Bucky handed you your dinner before picking his up and you both ate in companionable silence while watching the movie. As the credits roll at the end of the movie you could see Bucky fighting sleep.You get up which seems to stir him from his half-asleep state and take his hands in yours to lead him to your shared bedroom. You go to the dressed and pull out your pyjamas and when you turn around you notice that he’s pulling out his gym clothes.

“Buck, what are you doing?” You ask him, a bit of exasperation leaking into your voice.

“Just gonna hit the gym for a little bit,” he says with his eyes to the floor. “Don’t wanna get soft on ya. Besides, I’ll be back before you can miss me.” He says as he shuts the bedroom door behind you. It isn’t until your front door closes that you release your thought to the now empty room..

“That’s the problem Bucky, I already do.” You feel your eyes begin to burn with tears that want to flow down your cheeks, releasing pent up frustration. The lump in your throat thick. You make your way to the bathroom and decide to take a long hot shower. You play music from your phone that matches your mood and turn on the bluetooth speaker before stepping into the steaming shower. Your tears finally break free and sobs begin to escape you. You know that Bucky is the kind of person to be strong for everyone else, to bottle up his emotions, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were failing him. Old insecurities were bubbling their way to the surface and you worried that you were being too clingy and pushing him away and that maybe he just needed space, or that he was falling out of love with you, but then you remembered that kiss from earlier. You knew these thoughts were illogical, but that didn’t stop them from making you freak out. When the water began to cool down you quickly washed your body and hair before getting out of the shower. You felt tired after letting out the pent-up-emotion. Instead of putting on the pyjamas you had gotten out earlier you grabbed a fresh pair of panties and another shirt of Bucky’s before drying off and putting them on. You crawled into bed, and for the first time, you didn’t wait for Bucky to join you.

Bucky felt terrible when he left the bedroom he shared with you, but he also knew that if he didn’t go workout, especially after the accidental nap, he would be waking you with one of his nightmares and he couldn’t risk hurting you or stressing you out further because of them. So he headed a couple floors down in the tower to the gym. He made his way to the treadmill putting on his headphones and turning his music up. He ran twenty-five miles before he made his way over to the punching bag. With the skin on his knuckles broken like the punching bag in front of him, Bucky heads to the showers before making his way back upstairs. He lets the water run over his face and down his back as he moves his head forward. He quickly showers as he remembers the sound of your voice earlier. You were annoyed. You had every right to be. You deserved a man that would wrap you in his arms every night. A man that wasn’t still terrified of his own mind, of what he could potentially do to you when coming out of a nightmare. A man that would allow himself to be vulnerable with you like you were hoping he would be. With guilt and disappointment in himself, he gets out of the shower and gets dressed before making his way back to your shared apartment. He makes his way into the dark bedroom. He realizes that you didn’t even try waiting up for him this time. Tears threaten to spill as the salty water burns his eyes. He quietly makes his way to the dresser and pulls out his plaid pyjama pants and changes into them before climbing into bed carefully not to wake you up. 

You open your eyes confused as to what woke you up. You notice it is still dark out, no sign of dawn in sight and then you hear it. A whimper. You look towards Bucky’s side of the bed and see in the moonlight that his face is contorted in pain or fear. He’s gripping the sheets so tightly that his knuckles are white except for the spots of intense crimson where they had broken open earlier. 

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no.” Bucky pleads to no one in the room. You quickly realize that he’s deep within a nightmare. You lay a gentle hand on his chest while keeping the rest of you to the side of him in case he bolted forward. 

“Bucky. Bucky, baby, wake up.” You say to him gently, but loud enough to try and rouse him. Except he lets out a guttural scream that makes you jump a little from the unexpectedness of it. It had never got this bad before. The scream he let out was so loud you were a little worried that Steve heard it from his floor above you. Even though you know that it was probably ill-advised, you moved so that you had a leg on either side of Bucky’s hips. Both hands lightly on his chest to steady yourself you move them to his upper arms, gripping them just enough that if he moved you wouldn’t go flying anywhere but he could still move. 

“Bucky, c’mon, c'mon wake up for me. Please!” You receive no response but his head continues moving back and forth.

“James!” You nearly shout. 

At this he bolts forward. His metal hand around your throat. His eyes scan the room before he really comes to. He gasps as he realizes his hand is around your throat because you had tried to wake him from a bad night terror. He scrambles backwards his eyes wide and his chest is rapidly rising and falling. 

You give him a minute to collect himself before you reach out to him. You see him flinch as if your touch would burn him and you stop for a minute and switch tactics. 

“You didn’t hurt me.” You speak softly. I see him close his eye tightly before he speaks.

“I had my hand wrapped around your throat.” He takes deep breaths to calm himself, whether it’s from the night terror still or from annoyance at your comment, you have no idea.

You look him over and see that his knuckles were bleeding. With a sigh, you get up from the foot of the bed and stand in front of him before brushing your fingers against his. His eyes shoot wide open, but he doesn’t move. 

“Let me clean up your knuckles at least. Please.” You plead him, your fingertips just a hair above his, aching to be laced within his. He gulps before nodding his head. You move your way towards the bathroom, Bucky following behind you. You have Bucky lean against the bathroom sink as you grab the first aid kit from the cupboard and move to stand with his right leg between yours. You pull out an antiseptic wipe and begin dabbing at his knuckles. Bucky hisses from the sting at the first contact. 

“Sorry,” you say, barely above a whisper.

“S’okay,” he mutters in return. 

You continue cleaning his knuckles until the wipe is a pale pink color and his knuckles are clean. You grab some ointment from the first aid kit and carefully dab it onto the broken skin before you bandage his knuckles so the ointment doesn’t get all over the place. You then wrap your arms around him and lay your head directly over his heart, listening to the steady thump.

“I don’t deserve you,” Buck, mumbles, almost quietly enough for you not to hear him.

“What?” You say shocked taking a step back, your hands remaining on his waist, and your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“I don’t deserve you. I’m a monster. I could have accidentally killed you tonight.”

“You wouldn’t though.”

“God, you don’t know that for sure (Y/N)! I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you, let alone get you killed because I can’t keep my shit together.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me. HYDRA made you hurt innocent people, but it wasn’t you because if you had a choice in the matter you would have told them to get bent. Besides, I knew that it probably wasn’t the best idea of how to wake you up but I couldn’t stand hearing you in pain like that.”

“But it was me!”

“Would you think that if it were me in your position and you in mine?”

“Wha- no!”

“Then why is it any different for you? If it was you, then nothing would have changed after you were out from under their control. If it were you, Steve wouldn’t be alive right now. If it were you, I would be dead right now and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. It was not you.” You had stepped closer to him and you could feel his breath across your face. You stared straight into his ocean blue eyes that were beginning to brim with tears. 

“I just keep waiting for the moment that you see me as a monster like they do, as I do. The moment that you’ll wisen up and leave for your own safety. I’m terrified to lose you, Doll, and every day I just keep seeing more victims that are dead from my hands. A-and you see it, the pictures and videos, and you listen to the details, and I don’t understand why you stay. I knew that I’d probably get nightmares from it all again so I started going to bed late, getting up early, and working out because if I’m too tired to dream then you wouldn’t have to deal with that at least. But then I noticed that you’re hardly eating from all the stress of the case and trying to take care of me and I felt terrible for that. Then I would feel even more terrible because you would try and wait up for me every night, but you’d fall asleep before I’d get to bed because you were so tired. And, God, I missed you. I missed holding you, the smell of your shampoo, your lips on mine, but I just felt like I didn’t deserve it, and God, I’m just so sorry for hurting you. I never wanted to hurt you.” Bucky says breathless breaking down into sobs. You wrap your arms tightly around him as if you could hold the broken pieces of him together. Rubbing your hand up and down his back trying to do anything soothing to help him. 

“It’s okay, baby, I forgive you. I know you never meant to hurt me. You would never intentionally hurt me. I love you. I love you so much. Nothing some dumb prosecutor says is gonna change that, okay? They could present all the evidence in the world, but I know the kind of person you are Bucky. I know who you are. You’re a softie under that tough exterior of yours. I’m in this for the long haul, and I knew what I was getting into when we started this. I’m not gonna run at the first sign of trouble, but I do think we need to talk a bit more about the things that worry us. I was stressed, and I was stressed because I was worried about you. I was worried whether you would start having nightmares again, and then I was worried that I never saw you. I should have handled the stress a bit better than I did though. I knew that I should have stopped replacing meals with coffee, I just elected to ignore it, and that was my bad. And I missed you too. That’s why I tried waiting up for you. Bucky, you deserve the world. I don’t know a single person that would make it through what you’ve been through. You have. Healing isn’t linear though, you’re gonna have bad days, but you’ve gotta let me in a little bit on those bad days, okay? Even if it’s just saying that it’s a bad day. ‘Cause I wanna be here for you through all of it. I love you, Bucky Barnes. I love you so much, and we’re gonna get through this together, but if you need to hear right now, then I forgive you.” 

At your speech, Bucky pulls you down to the bathroom floor and you cry in each other’s arms. You both sit there for about an hour whispering “I love you’s” to each other, occasionally kissing each other, soft and sweet. You both stay there until your tears begin to dry up, both of your faces blotchy, and your eyes bloodshot from the sudden onslaught of sobs and pent up emotion trying to remain strong for the other. Eventually, you start to shiver from the cold bathroom floor, and with ease, Bucky picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bed where he holds you through the night. You never have to wait up for him to go to bed after that.

**Author's Note:**

> This was for @coffee-with-bucky‘s writing challenge over on tumblr! My prompt was: “I know who you are. You’re a softie under that tough exterior of yours.”


End file.
